Terra's Own
by Pixo
Summary: a (very) short story about Terra's Own regiment


**Victory**

A story of the T_erra's Own_

**~ V ~**

"_All of the worlds of the Imperium shall look to their own defense. They shall also look to the defense of the Imperium, and the prosecution of such wars as the Emperor in His wisdom shall decree. __Therefore, each populated planet shall raise and maintain its own planetary defense force, and from the ranks of this defense force it shall provide the best of its troops for recruitment into the Imperial Guard, according to such requirements as shall be imposed by the Administratum."  
__- _from the Introit to the Codex Exercitus

**~ V ~**

Guardsman Bayer scrabbled on his hands and knees, feeling rocks and glass tear at his palms and legs. After a mad scamper he threw himself into a shallow ditch filled with rancid water. He half floated, half crawled through the filthy fluid, holding his lasgun above the water. He heard a splash behind him and a quick glance told him it was his fellow squadman, the young Dest. Other Guardsmen followed, old man Ypic slithered behind him. Behind Ypic, crawling across the street on his elbows and knees, was the ugly Corporal Vlue and rest of the squad of lasmen from the world of Reap.

Those men did not make it across the ruined avenue. They were cut apart by a hail of solid rounds, pumped out from a pair of heavy stubbers at the end of the rubble filled street.

Bayer stopped moving and slowly pulled himself to the lip of the ditch. Peeking over, his view was of flashing barrels pointed his way. He snapped his head back, but not quickly enough. A round tore through his cheek and blew out most of the teeth on one side of mouth. Limply, he collapsed to the torpid waters.

Dest lurched forward, desperately pulling Bayer's ruined head from the horrid water. Blood and waste fluids poured from the open cavity. Bayer's eyes were rolled back into his skull, he shook violently. Ypic crawled to them and helped pull Bayer further from the waters.

The two living men, old and young, shared a look. It was not a hopeful look.

Ypic frowned sadly, then checked his lasgun's load. He turned and made to climb up the embankment, but Dest grabbed his arm, pulling him around. He shook his head at Ypic. The old man just nodded his head to the slope, and start crawling.

A series of explosions ripped through the air, showering dirt and rock onto the two men. Dest threw himself over Bayer, protecting his now unmoving body. The sound of dozens of lasrifles on rapid fire pierced the air. The stubbers barking retorted sounded in response. There was another large explosion, the ground and air shaking with concussion, and the barking stopped abruptly.

Ypic crawled to the ditch's lip, took a deep breath, and tentatively peeked over.

He saw angels. Golden angels, running.

One of the golden angels saw him and trotted over to him. The angel was encased in golden carapace armor, with gray webbing and holding a smoking hellgun in his hands. A winged V emblem was painted on his chest plate. The angel looked down at Ypic, then at the still Bayer, cradled in Dest's lap. "Up brothers," the angel called, his voice heavy and distorted from his fully enclosed helmet.

Ypic only stared at him, thinking his old eyes had finally failed him.

The golden angel squatted down and pulled off his helmet.

He was a man. Middle-aged and handsome, with strong features and dark hair. He held out his hand to Ypic, "Brother come," he said, "You cannot give the Emperor the victories He wishes from down there."

Ypic took his hand and the angel pulled him over the lip and onto his feet. "You too, brother," he called to Dest.

Dest looked at Bayer then back to the man-angel. Dest shook his head. The man-angel nodded in understanding, and then shouted over his shoulder. Another pair of men in golden armor appeared. They slipped their hellguns over their backs and slide agilely down the short embankment. They gently separated Dest and took hold of Bayer. The two men carefully lifted him and carried him off. The older man in gold waved to Dest.

When Dest had climbed up and was standing next to his squadmen, the glorious man-angel said, "We fight now as brothers, faithful and true. Follow me to Glory. Follow!"

With that he slipped on him golden helmet and trotted away to a group of golden armored men hunkered down at the ruin of the stubbers.

Ypic looked to Dest and asked, "Who the _warp_ are they?!"

The young guardsmen looked from the armored men up to the sky above and said, "I don't know, but I'm following him."

**~ V ~**

In orbit above the two bewildered guardsmen the Navy heavy cruiser _Gloria Eternus _drifted in high-orbit. Navy lieutenants Amcor and Chase leaned on a railing overlooking a huge docking bay. They could see men in gold bodyarmor walking around, going about unloading their golden supply transports with a calm efficiency. Behind the noise of the dock was a low, calming humming sound. The men in gold chanted hymns softly to themselves.

"Just who the blazes are they?" asked Chase, pulling a long draft on his tabba-roll and passed it to Amcor.

She took the rolly carefully and took a long pull before answering, "No idea. But they're handsome chaps, that's for sure. Xus was pulling a shift on the dock with they arrived, and she told me they are even better looking up close."

Chase took the rolly back, pulled hard, and flicked it away over the railing, "To right. Big fella's too. You see their kit. Carapace armor, hellguns, damn … they ain't your common grox-pellet Guard unit. You think we should go down and introduce ourselves?"

"That won't be necessary," came a commanding voice from a nearby hatchway.

Both officers snapped to rigid attention. Eyes front, fingers on their trouser seams.

Captain Tor, dressed in his well-pressed black number 1 day uniform walked up to the two young officers, eyeing them sternly. Tor was the lord and commander of the starship, and of the young lieutenants' careers. If he wished it, he was even lord of their very lives. "At ease," he said. Amcor and Chase moved smoothly into relaxed stance.

"You asked who they are, did you?" Tor addressed Chase.

"Yes Sire, just expressing my curiosity to Lieutenant Amcor, Sire."

"Do you wish to know?"

"If Sire would be so kind."

"Below, what do you see?" Tor asked, turning a hand toward the open bay.

"Men, Sire. Men in gold carapace armor," Chase replied.

"Is that all? Look closely now."

"The winged V on their chest plate, a unit icon … maybe?"

"Good, what else?"

"High grade weapons," Amcor added.

"Excellent. What does that tell you?"

"They are specialist Guard soldiers. Big men … hard men. Stormtroopers, maybe," Chase concluded.

Tor leaned heavily on the railing, looking closely at the golden men below, "Good guess, but they're not men."

The lieutenants shared a quick glance while the captain was looking down.

"They're gods," Tor muttered.

He stood up, adjusted his dress jacket, and said, "Well not gods, but the children of gods. You're looking at _Terra's Own_ Regiment. They are from the most sacred world in the Imperium. The most blessed, the most important. Everything we do here, on this vessel, in this terrible galaxy is to keep Terra safe from harm."

"Sire, they do the same, yes?" Amcor said.

Tor looked at her and nodded slightly, "Oh indeed. Those men do the same, but what makes them different, is no matter where they are in the galaxy, they're always fighting for their homeworld. Whatmore, they're blood is more pure then any, save that of the Astartes themselves. Every man you see below is a more then a stormtrooper, he is also a priest. Bringing the Light of Terra to the darkness by word and deed, psalm and las. We should all strive to be more like them."

The captain glanced down again and sighed softly, "Oh holy Terra, when shall I see you next," he muttered to himself, tapping a finger on the railing.

With that he turned away and made for the hatch. The two officers snapped at attention. When Tor was half through the hatch he looked over shoulder and said, "On second thought, as an act of self improvement, go introduce yourselves. You'll be my liaisons. A Commander Lovelock leads them and you will answer to him. Oh, and if I catch either of you two smoking again, I'll have you flogged within an inch of your lives."

"Sire!" both said sharply.


End file.
